That Special Spark
by labgeekluvr
Summary: Chapter 1: Greg has a sleepless night after working a burn victim case, but is soothed by a visit from a friend.Chapter 2: Greg returns the favor after Sara is taken hostage at the state hospital. Chap. 3 Sara and Greg's relationship reaches a crossroad
1. Chapter 1

Title: That Special Spark

Rating: T

Time: Missing Scene from "Spark of Life"

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, all belong to the writers of CBS and CSI:Crime Scene Investigation

Sara had just finished consulting with Grissom, Warrick, and Catherine about two cases that were related–a murdered family and an arson with one dead body and one victim still alive, but with third-degree burns over 80 of her body. Greg Sanders had been working the burn victim case, and it had been rough for him. Greg had been given the burn victim's amputated fingers to process, but Grissom saw how difficult it was for him and that he had worked a double shift, and so sent him home. Sara's shift was now over, and she decided she would call Greg and check up on him. When he answered the phone, Sara could tell he wasn't his usual cheerful self.

"You're still up? I thought you'd be asleep by now," Sara said.

"Nah, can't sleep. Can't get the image of that burn victim out of my mind," Greg said, sounding obviously exhausted.

"Can I take you out for breakfast?" Sara asked.

"I'm not really in the mood to leave the house," Greg replied.

"Can I bring breakfast to you, then? Are you up for some company?" Sara suggested.

"Yeah, I would like that. I could use the company. Thanks, Sara," Greg replied.

"Great. See you in a bit," Sara said. She hung up the phone and headed for Greg's place, stopping to pick up some breakfast burritos along the way. She rang the doorbell and Greg answered the door in his pajamas, looking as exhausted as he sounded.

"Hi," he smiled when he saw her. "Excuse the mess. I put a pot of my special coffee on just for us."

"Wow, I feel special. How do I rate your special coffee?"Sara asked, smiling.

Greg couldn't think of an answer. "I'm just glad you're here," he said softly.

Sara patted him on the shoulder, then brought the food over to the coffee table. Greg grabbed a couple coffee mugs and filled them with his special Hawaiian blend coffee. They enjoyed their breakfast burritos and some small talk.

"So you didn't sleep at all last night?" Sara asked finally.

"No, every time I closed my eyes, I would see her lying in that bed, covered with horrible burns. The doctors said her nerves were damaged, and that she was on enough morphine that she wouldn't be suffering, but I can't imagine how she's going to feel once she starts healing. I remember..."

"You remember how you felt after the lab explosion," Sara said, picking up where Greg had broken off. He nodded.

"And my burns were minor compared to hers, not much worse than a bad sunburn, but painful nonetheless," Greg said, his voice still faltering. Sara took his hand.

"She still had that spark of life in her, maybe the hope that her unborn child would somehow survive all this, though it's highly unlikely," Sara said softly.

"I talked to Sofia about it a little. I was getting ready to leave when she was coming in for her shift," Greg said. "I asked her how to stop thinking about it. She basically told me to come home and relax, have a beer, watch a movie. None of that worked. I can't stop thinking about it," Greg said, eyes welling with tears.

Sara put her arm around Greg, rubbing his back in a circular motion. "What else did Sofia say?" she asked, hoping to glean a comforting pearl of wisdom to build on.

"She told me not to lose my sense of humor. But I feel I'm changing, Sara. I feel I'm not as light-hearted as I was when I was in the lab," Greg said.

"You're not regretting your decision, are you? You've worked so hard to get to this point," Sara said, concerned.

"No, I don't regret it. I feel like I'm part of something that's so much bigger. I guess I just didn't bargain for all that came with that bigger experience. In the lab, I could process fingers no problem. I really didn't know who they belonged to. Now in the field, I know who they belong to. I know the people that I process. They're not just DNA and trace results. They're people who have suffered," Greg said.

"That just shows what I've always known about you," Sara said, cupping his chin with her hand, "that you have a big heart. You care about the people you encounter. And that's a good thing. It can make the job difficult sometimes. You'll learn to keep your emotions out of the investigation and let the evidence speak for itself. But it doesn't mean you stop feeling, stop caring. If you stop caring, then it's time to move on."

"So it does get easier?" Greg asked.

"There are always tough cases–kids, women in some cases. You learn to manage," Sara said.

"How do you manage?" Greg asked.

"Probably not in the healthiest ways. Just make sure you take good care of yourself. And like Sofia said, don't lose your sense of humor–your special spark. I'd hate to lose sight of that goofy smile of yours," Sara said.

Greg tried to manage a smile, but ended up bursting into tears instead. Sara pulled him into her arms and ran her fingers through his soft blond hair. She let him cry in her arms until he finally cried himself to sleep. She grabbed a pillow and tucked it under her head, leaning back against the couch. She leaned her face against Greg's and closed her eyes, continuing to stroke his hair until she too fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: That Special Spark, chapter 2

Time: Post-"Committed"

A few weeks after Greg's arson case, Sara and Grissom were investigating a murder at the Desert State Psychiatric Hospital. During the course of the murder investigation, Sara had been taken hostage by one of the patients in the nurse's station. He had locked the door behind him, grabbed Sara and held a sharp ceramic shard to her throat. Grissom had gone to find someone with keys to open a filing cabinet. When he returned, he saw Sara on the floor, held down by her assailant, with the sharp object at her throat. He pleaded with the security guard to quickly open the door. Finally the door was opened and Sara escaped to safety, running down a short corridor to a barred window, which she grabbed and held onto for dear life. She needed to hold on to something, someone. Grissom tried, but all he could offer was the opportunity to take herself off the case and get some rest. He didn't understand the physical comfort she needed at that moment.

Sara returned to the lab to process the evidence. She had several items of bloody clothing laid out on the table. As Sara was processing the evidence, Greg walked in.

"Sara, thank God you're okay," he said shakily, reaching out to hug her. Sara was surprised by the embrace. It caught her off guard at first, but gradually she melted in the warmth of Greg's arms.

"Thanks...Greg. I'm okay, Sweetie," she stammered.

"You must have been so scared. How could Grissom have left you alone like that?" Greg whispered, his voice betraying the tears that were coming.

"He went to find someone to get a set of keys. He had no reason to fear for my safety, we had been there for hours with no incident. No one could have known that Trent would snap like that," Sara said softly. She reached up and touched Greg's hair, sensing the emotion in his voice.

"Those places scare me. How can anyone assume they're safe in a building full of violent and insane criminals? He never should have left you alone," Greg said, becoming more agitated, looking into Sara's eyes. Sara placed her hand on Greg's cheek.

"He was doing his job," Sara explained.

Greg couldn't find any more words to say. He just looked into Sara's eyes, tears brimming his own. Sara stroked his cheek and brushed the bangs from his forehead.

"I'm okay. Really I am," she said. She hugged him tightly again. "And I appreciate the hug, I really needed this. I feel so safe and warm right now," she said, laying her head on his shoulder. She could feel Greg trembling as he succumbed to the tears. She reached up once again, running her fingers through his hair, whispering over and over that everything was okay.

"I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you," Greg sobbed.

Sara squeezed him tightly. "Don't you worry, I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Grissom ambling down the hall towards his office. She saw him pause briefly in front of the door, taking in the scene. Sara closed her eyes and wished Grissom would just walk away, leaving her and Greg alone for a moment. She opened her eyes and saw that he was no longer there, and breathed a sigh of relief. She held Greg until she felt his sobs easing away. Then she touched his cheek again, gazing into his eyes.

"I need to process this evidence now. Maybe we can grab some dinner later?" Sara said. Greg nodded. She tousled his hair and sent him on his way. Now she realized she was torn. She had harbored feelings for Grissom for years now. He was the reason she came to Vegas. But he was such a tough egg to crack. Then she met Greg, who was everything Grissom wasn't-- Spontaneous, unafraid to express how he felt, affectionate, vulnerable, all with a wicked sense of humor and an adorable, endearing charm. Sara sensed that Grissom cared about her in his own way, but with Greg there was no doubt, no second-guessing. Sara knew exactly where she stood with Greg, she wasn't so sure with Grissom. Sara began to question what she really needed, a father figure she could never please or someone she could nurture and be nurtured by in return. She sighed and shook her head, attempting to clear out the cobwebs. _"That will have to wait until another day,"_ she thought to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: That Special Spark, chapter 3

Time: "Iced", refers back to "4x4"

Greg and Sara were working a case together, investigating the suspicious deaths of two UNLV students who apparently had died from carbon dioxide poisoning. As they processed the room, Sara sensed that Greg was anxious about something.

"You okay there, Greg? You seem awful quiet," Sara said.

"Naw, I'm fine, I was just thinking about something," Greg answered.

"Thought I smelled smoke," Sara joked.

"Funny. Hey, you know a few weeks ago when we were in the hazmat showers together?" Greg started.

"Yeah, but we talked about this already. You said you didn't see anything, and I said I saw everything," Sara replied.

"Yeah, I know you saw everything," Greg retorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sara asked.

"Because I peeked," Greg muttered.

"You WHAT? You told me you didn't see anything!" Sara shouted.

"I didn't see...much. I saw that you have a tattoo on your ankle, and I saw that you were staring at me," Greg retorted.

"I was not staring," Sara rebuffed, turning her back on Greg.

"You were too staring," Greg challenged.

"Okay, maybe just a little," Sara confessed. Greg smiled and blushed slightly. He drew closer to her and whispered in her ear.

"So...did you like what you saw?"

Sara turned towards him and smiled. "Not bad. Could use a little more muscle, though."

"C'mon, you should have seen the big guns I was flexing in Musclehead's mirror before they dragged us out of the house," Greg retorted.

"I did. Like I said, not bad. Needs a little work, though," Sara said, trying to move past him to inspect another area of the room.

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" Greg asked, bending over to pick something off the floor.

"Well, I'm trying to get by you, but your rear end is in the way," Sara answered, patting him playfully on his rear jeans pocket. Greg shot upright.

"You just spanked me," Greg said in mock shock.

"And you liked it, too," Sara laughed, her back turned towards him..

"That's harassment," Greg said moving towards her.

"You deserved it," Sara smiled. Greg stole behind her, threw his arms around her waist and scooped her up in his arms, spinning her around.

"How's that for muscle?" He said, kissing her on the cheek as he set her down.

"Greg! We're in the middle of a crime scene. What do you think you're doing?" Sara exclaimed.

"Holding the woman I love," Greg answered, burying his face in her strawberry-scented hair and kissing the back of her head.

"Greg, seriously, we've got work to do," Sara protested, breaking free of his embrace. He stood stunned for a moment, and she regretted pushing him away so firmly.

"I thought you felt the same about me. After the arson case and you bringing me breakfast and...letting me sleep in your arms. I thought there was something there, I'm sorry," Greg muttered, defeated. He turned back to what he was inspecting on the floor.

"Greg," Sara started, reaching to touch his hair. "It's not that there isn't something there, there is. I'm just not sure what it is yet. It's complicated. I care for you a great deal, I do, but..."

"I get it Sara, it's okay, really," Greg interrupted. Sara stooped down next to him and cupped his chin, turning his face so his eyes met hers.

"I don't think you do, Greg," Sara said firmly.

"It's Grissom, isn't it?" Greg asked.

"Grissom...how..."

"I've known since the Tom Haviland case when Wescott grilled you on the stand about letting your personal relationships interfere with your work," Greg answered, standing up and moving away from Sara.

"But that was ages ago, and besides I was seeing Hank then," Sara protested.

"Yeah, he was a real prize, too," Greg snapped.

"Hey! I'll thank you not to criticize my taste in men," Sara shouted.

"Well maybe if you'd open your eyes and see that someone who truly loves you is standing right here, instead of trying to earn it from those who couldn't care less, or don't know how," Greg stammered, tears coming to his eyes. He didn't want her to see him cry, so he turned his back to her and wiped his sleeve across his eyes.

Greg's words struck Sara to the bone. He saw right through her. He saw how she denied the true love lying before her on a silver platter and chose to fight instead for a lesser love she could never attain. He knew her so completely, understood her so perfectly, and yet still loved her so much. But what about Grissom? Surely he had feelings for her too. Not as easy to read, but she knew something was there. She couldn't ignore that.

"Greg," she whispered, rising and walking over to him, touching the back of his shoulder. "I'm sorry I've hurt you. I just need some time."

He turned to face her, his brown eyes filled with sadness and tears. "Take all the time you need," he said. "Whatever your decision, I'll just have to accept it." He quickly packed up his kit and went out to the car. Sara stood stunned in the center of the room, feeling like the light of her life had just been snuffed out forever.


End file.
